


Intervallo

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Morphology [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal, Dress Up, Established Relationship, Existential Angst, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Passion, Possessive Hannibal, Possessive Will, Romance, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1222504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal takes Will to the opera. Will finds himself thinking of women, of Hannibal, of his own sexual past, of their current relationship, and his thoughts get him into a spot of trouble.</p><p>Takes place between "<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/934550">The Imposition of Order and Harmony on a Design</a>" and "<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037699">Not To Die of the Truth</a>".</p><p>The amazing <a href="">FeoplePeel</a> made a cover for this fic!!! You should <a href="http://feoplepeel.tumblr.com/post/86973353540/intervallo-by-finely-honed-part-five-of-morphology">put your eyes all over it</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intervallo

Will frowned down at the clothes laid out for him on the bed. “I should have known you were up to something last night,” he called out, but Hannibal either didn’t hear him over the sound of running water, or had decided to ignore the remark.

He supposed he was being a bad sport, but it still felt as if he had been tricked. Hannibal had been holding up his half of their bargain without complaint. In fact, whenever he was having a bad day, Will conjured up the doctor’s reaction to being presented with a pair of jeans to wear; it was as if Will had just signed his death warrant. He’d worn them though, along with one of Will’s old, faded t-shirts, which had been just a bit too small for him, the fabric delightfully taut across Hannibal’s chest, and shoulders.

Will smiled at the memory, but then refocused on his irritation. He still felt strongly that he was entitled to a sulk. Without consulting him, Hannibal had purchased tickets to the opera. Being Hannibal, he had also made no mention of this fact until the morning of the event. In retrospect, Will now recognized the night before as the softening up it certainly had been.

He should have been suspicious of the burgers and fries, even if they were presented to him as if Hannibal was seeking his final Michelin Star. It was admittedly the best burger he’d ever had, even if he couldn’t remember the blend of meats used, or pronounce the name of the cheese. The fries alone had been little works of art, the sauce they were paired with decidedly not ketchup, but very tasty. It had the added bonus of built in entertainment; Hannibal refused to use his hands, instead opting to eat his burger with a fork and knife.

In fact, as soon as Hannibal gave him _carte blanche_ for the sound system, he should have immediately demanded to know what he was being buttered up for, but he had been a little tipsy by that point. And anyway, Hannibal had cleverly distracted him by licking and sucking various erogenous zones on Will’s body, leaving a few lovebites where no one would see them along the way. The evening had culminated in a blowjob that still made his balls tingle when he thought of it.

Halfway through breakfast, Hannibal had informed him of their plans for the evening, his expression making it clear that Will absolutely, positively had no choice in the matter. Will still spent most of the day trying out different excuses in his head, knowing it was pointless, but unable to help himself. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find a tuxedo had been procured for him. Seeing the clothes had made it all real, and so Will didn’t bother protesting when Hannibal offered to shave him, then insisted on styling Will’s hair. He was resigned to his fate, but that didn’t mean he had to be chipper about it.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Hannibal asked as he emerged from the bathroom. Will had only gotten as far as putting on the pants. He picked up the pace, frown still present as he watched Hannibal making minute adjustments to his own clothing.

“You look amazing in a tux,” Will said, sounding petulant even to himself, “I’m going to look like I stole someone’s clothes so I could sneak in.”

Hannibal permitted the tiniest noise of frustration to escape his lips as he crossed the room, taking over buttoning up Will’s shirt, tieing his bowtie. Will tried unsuccessfully to steal a kiss after Hannibal got him in the jacket, but the doctor was having none of it. Cufflinks were next, then tiny adjustments here and there, until finally Hannibal marched him over to the full length mirror. Will stared at his reflection, at the reflection of Hannibal standing behind him, and had to admit he looked good.

“Satisfied?” Hannibal asked, breath warm against Will’s ear. His reflection met the eyes of Will’s own as he placed a kiss behind Will’s ear, momentarily tugging on the lobe with his teeth. Will could only swallow and nod in response, thinking again of the previous evening’s oral entertainment. “Excellent. Shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~

During the ride there, Hannibal gave Will an overview of the opera they were seeing, correctly assuming Will hadn’t seen it before. He hadn’t seen any opera before, actually. The profiler’s thoughts wandered during the explanation though, and he would have been hard pressed to answer any questions, had Hannibal been inclined to quiz him.

Something about the entire affair just rubbed him the wrong way, preventing him from giving up and attempting to enjoy himself. Will knew part of it was his innate dislike of the rich, his own childhood socioeconomic status having left him with _just_ a bit of a grudge. The fact that Hannibal’s upperclass ways didn’t leave him seething was a testament to his affection for the man.

No, it wasn’t just the fancy clothes, or the snobs they were certain to be surrounded by, it was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Being the way he was, this meant he worried at his discomfort the way one worries at a sore tooth with their tongue. The longer the underlying reason for his bad mood escaped him, the more the frustration grew.

He felt decidedly out of place as they entered, especially as various attendees sought out Hannibal in order to exchange pleasantries, which naturally required constant introductions, something he loathed. A few of the wives, or girlfriends, or escorts, or whatever they were, attempted to engage him in conversation, as if he was one of the ladies. They quickly gave up. As they stood in their small group, Will having already forgotten everyone’s name, he found his eyes wandering to the well dressed women all around them.

The air was filled with various conflicting perfumes, hips swayed provocatively, evening gowns clung to hourglass figures, and most of the women he watched seemed to have intentionally worn jewelry designed to draw one’s eyes to their cleavage. In a moment of surreality, Will recalled the last time he had made love to a woman, and felt suddenly feverish as his mind conjured up the weight of breasts in his hands, the feeling of thighs wrapped around him, the dark mystery of it all.

And then Hannibal’s hand was on the small of his back, breaking the spell, leaving Will feeling as if he had betrayed the man somehow. “Shall we find our seats?” Will could only nod, eyes firmly focused on Hannibal’s mouth, flooded with additional guilt at the sight of the almost invisible tell of Hannibal fighting off a frown.

He was certain their seats were excellent, but Will felt overwhelmed by the number of people surrounding them. He kept his hands firmly planted on his knees, white knuckled, still disturbed by his brain’s previous sexual onslaught. Conversation was happening everywhere, making him all the more aware of his own silence. He jumped involuntarily when Hannibal leaned in close, speaking softly enough to prevent anyone from overhearing. “I apologize, Will, I seem to have miscalculated. Shall we leave?”

Will surprised himself. The moment before Hannibal had offered, he would have sworn he’d jump at the chance to escape, but the fact that Hannibal was willing to abandon something he’d clearly put a lot of time, effort, and money into, something he loved and had been looking forward to… “No, I’ll be fine,” he answered, managing to meet Hannibal’s eyes. The concern there was heartwarming, and Will found himself relaxing a bit in response.

Hannibal studied him for a moment. “If you change your mind…”

“Honest,” Will interrupted, feeling embarrassed. “There’s a hunchback, right? Can’t miss that.”

When the lights lowered, it was easier. He could let his eyes lose focus, the performers on the stage becoming multicolored blurs of motion, the singing washing over him, pretty noise without meaning. He had no idea what was happening, and didn’t really care, happy to be able to retreat into his own little world.

The flashback of feminine intimacy had left him shaken. As he had done countless times, Will found himself trying to puzzle out exactly what the hell he was doing. He was Hannibal Lecter’s date to the opera, and had no idea why that felt so scandalous, so very strange. The only thing odd about it, really, was his own reaction.

Will couldn’t recall the last time they’d slept apart from each other. He’d done so in the beginning, but had long since stopped keeping track of the number of times they’d had sex. They’d even showered together that evening, so why did he suddenly feel so self conscious being the man’s date somewhere?

He studied the nape of the neck of a woman seated two rows ahead, felt that surreal sensation again, and frowned. This definitely had something to do with it. When he was younger, Will had experimented with another boy, mostly by way of being on the receiving end of oral sex. Eventually, after a lot of gentle instance on the part of the other, they’d split a six-pack, and he’d consented to some rather awkward, unpleasant anal sex. It had been painful at first, but that had faded fast, replaced with pleasure. The source of the unpleasantness was entirely within Will’s mind, less so in his body, although it had everything to do with his body’s reaction to the penetration.

The exchange had made him feel foolish, guilty, disgusting, and painfully different. He wanted to erase the moment, pretend it had never happened, felt sick with embarrassment when he thought of himself moaning on all fours. Worse still was imagining what his father’s reaction would be. It was as if the weight of what he had done was crushing him. There was too much different and wrong with him already, he couldn’t take the scales tipping any further away from normalcy.

The other boy had no such hang ups, had wanted to let the whole world know they were lovers. Will still felt sick with shame when he thought of his own eventual, violent reaction when he’d finally reached the end of his rope. He vividly recalled watching his fist smash into the boy’s face, the broken nose, the look of hurt, and betrayal. They’d never spoken again, and after that Will had thrown himself into heterosexuality as if his life depended upon it.

It wasn’t as if he’d needed to force himself to be attracted to women—his body was quite happy to respond to them on its own—it was just that he consciously forced himself to ignore his attraction to men. Until Hannibal. There was no ignoring Hannibal. Will still thought of their first time together, at his own surprise by how much he had needed Hannibal inside of him, as if all those years of denial had been leading up to that particular moment, as if he had been saving himself for Hannibal all along. Will risked sneaking a glance at the man seated beside him, felt that wonderfully uncomfortable tugging sensation in his chest as he studied Hannibal’s profile.

Will was beginning to better understand what was bothering him. He was in the longest lasting committed relationship of his life, and it was with another man. More so, he was in love with this man, and it was as terrifying as it was delightful. He’d thought he’d understood how all of this crap worked, it was one of the reasons he’d remained single for so long, after all, but he could now admit that he’d never actually been in love before. It was entirely different.

He was never going to have sex with a woman again. In fact, this evening was the first time he’d even thought of sex with a woman in ages. So, if he was in a committed relationship with a man, was out at the opera with him, sick with love for him, was admitting to himself that this was it, then that meant he was gay. He’d never thought of himself as gay before, and the idea made him panic for reasons he couldn’t quite understand.

Stranger yet, Will was pretty sure he was the girl in their relationship, which brought its own wave of confusion. He’d never thought of himself as feminine before, but the more he pondered it, the more he became convinced Hannibal wore the pants in their relationship. If they ever got in a fistfight, he had no doubt he’d be on the losing end. Under the fancy clothes, Hannibal was solid, strong, incredibly masculine.

Hannibal tilted his head ever so slightly, just enough to let Will know he was aware of being watched. It was so subtle, and the knowledge that it was something only he would notice made Will unreasonably happy. Without thinking, he found himself rubbing the knuckles of his hand against the outside of Hannibal’s knee, a tiny, intimate gesture likely to go unnoticed in the darkened opera house. In response, Hannibal sucked at his lower lip, knowing it would cause a riot within Will’s mind, which it certainly did. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable as arousal crept in.

Will turned to face the stage, leaving his hand positioned so that his pinky maintained contact with Hannibal’s leg. He still had no idea what was going on, but the performers certainly seemed to be enthusiastic. He felt bad about his earlier reaction, for his attitude in general, and tried to actually pay attention to the performance for Hannibal’s sake.

Trying only got him so far, though. His mind wandered off almost immediately. Will knew Hannibal’s family had died when he was fairly young, that he’d been orphaned for a time until his uncle claimed him, so had his uncle been an opera fan? Maybe his parents had taken him when he was a child, and he had nostalgic connections to the artform, fond memories from when they were still a family. Whenever he tried to picture a young Hannibal Lecter, Will’s imagination shrugged, and gave up.

As he watched what he supposed were lovers singing to each other on the stage, Will continued to ponder over Hannibal's past. He had gotten the feeling that, like himself, Hannibal had elected to remain single for quite some time. He wasn't sure why, though. It made sense for Will—he was awkward and difficult at the best of times—but Hannibal was charming, successful, comfortably social, handsome. In this day and age, it seemed strange that he didn't have a failed marriage or two under his belt. Will didn't even know if Hannibal had ever had sex with a woman before.

That question didn't help his arousal. He had a mental flash of Hannibal's face buried between Alana's thighs and hated how exciting it was, surprised by his lack of jealousy over the imagined act. He supposed it was the sheer novelty of the imagery; Hannibal was so very good at sucking cock that it was hard to believe he might have had a slew of female lovers.

This forced Will to think about the men Hannibal might have been with over the years, and he found himself grinding his teeth. This was all amazing and new and magical for Will, but he wasn't like most people. Likely, there had there been a great love in Hannibal's life, once upon a time, and chances are it was another man. While the thought of Hannibal with a woman left him aroused, imagining the good doctor on his knees for someone else left Will feeling sick in the pit of his stomach. Again, he stared at his lover, wondering how much longer they had before the intermission. He suddenly had so many questions he needed answers for, he thought he might go mad.

It felt like ages before the lights came up, and he had no idea how long the break was going to  last, so Will was mildly irritated by Hannibal’s desire to procure a glass of wine. Will followed him like a puppy, not willing to allow Hannibal the opportunity to get sidetracked by rubbing elbows with the social elite, helping himself to a glass as well.

“There is something you wish to discuss,” Hannibal said quietly, obviously having noticed Will’s impatience. He led them away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd, then waited for Will to begin.

Will swallowed nervously, looking around them to make sure their conversation would be reasonably private before asking, “Have you ever had sex with a woman?”

Hannibal stared at him, confusion evident. “Whatever has been running through that head of yours?” Will just returned the stare, making it clear he wanted, needed an answer. Hannibal took a sip of his wine before answering. “Yes, of course. Does this surprise you?”

“A bit, yes,” Will admitted, draining his own glass of wine in one long, obscene swallow. “More than one?”

“Yes.”

“Do you miss women?”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Will saw a flash of something dangerous there. “Why are you asking this?”

“Am I your girlfriend?” He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked the question, it sounded so ridiculous when he said it out loud. Before he had a chance to clarify, Hannibal brushed the back of his hand across the front of Will’s pants, quickly and subtly enough that no one would notice, but with enough pressure to send blood pumping south.

“Everything seems to be in order, so I would have to say no.” Will knew he was blushing as he shifted, suddenly regretting having started this conversation in public. “I’m confused, Will.”

“Me too,” he admitted, wishing he’d grabbed two glasses of wine. “I don’t know, I wound up in a weird headspace. We’ve never actually been on a date before, and you dressed me all up, and…”

Hannibal was kind enough to cut him off before he embarrassed himself further. “I find it curious that in a relationship between two men you believe one must assume a feminine role.”

“Isn’t that how it works, though?”

“Occasionally, between a man and woman, yes.” Hannibal took another sip of wine, exchanged a nod and smile with someone walking past them, then continued. “Even heteronormative relationships frequently eschew typical societal gender roles. If you’re concerned, consider this: an individual upon observation might conclude that, with my attention to personal appearance, propensity for cooking, cleaning, and wardrobe expansion, that I was in fact the ‘girlfriend’ in this relationship. ”

Will hadn’t thought about that. He supposed what Hannibal said was true, though. On the surface of things he was the more manly of the two of them, despite Hannibal’s height and size advantage. Will was feeling more and more like a jackass as the conversation continued, though, and couldn’t quite remember what it was that had led to him questioning his own masculinity to begin with.

“Are we now allowing the _lumpenproletariat_ to dictate the terms of engagement between us?”

Will exhaled loudly, and decided to just take Hannibal’s wine from him. The look of dismay on his lover’s face over this gesture shouldn’t have been as amusing as it was. “No, I know, I’m crazy.”

“Clearly there is an underlying concern,” Hannibal said, refusing to allow Will the easy out. “Have I emasculated you in some way?”

“No,” Will answered quickly, then, “Well, a little, but not necessarily in a bad way. You’re just…” he finished the rest of Hannibal’s wine, then handed back the glass, “a force of nature.”

“I encourage you to assert yourself,” Hannibal said softly, and something in his voice made Will’s heart begin to race. “I have no interest in a pet, only a partner. Is this really what’s troubling you?”

Will looked away, uncomfortable. “I guess things finally felt real tonight,” he admitted, keeping his eyes focused on Hannibal’s mouth, scared to look any higher. “Have you been in a relationship before? A serious one, I mean.”

Hannibal surprised him again. “No.” Will looked up at that, the question ‘why not?’ left unspoken. “Although I experimented in my youth, I saw little point in taking it any further. Humans are frequently ugly.”

The choice of words made it obvious to Will that Hannibal did not lump himself in with the rest of the human race. Will knew what it was like, the feeling of standing outside of it all. His own, futile attempts at romance had always left him feeling painfully alone when with the other person, only truly comfortable when once again in isolation.

Before Will could think of an appropriate response, the end of the intermission was announced. After returning their emptied glasses, he allowed himself to be led back to their seats by a grim looking Hannibal Lecter. As Will settled back into his seat, Hannibal leaned over, his mouth close to Will’s ear. “I expect us to continue this conversation during the next intermission.”

Once more, the lights went low, and Will found himself wondering if this was the last time Hannibal would attempt to share something he loved with Will. That thought made him incredibly sad, so before the performance could resume, he leaned in to whisper, “I’m sorry if I’m ruining this for you. I didn’t mean to have an existential crisis during our date.”

Hannibal chewed on his lower lip for a moment before meeting Will’s inquisitive gaze, his eyes speaking volumes. _Apology accepted, you can make it up to me later, you’re ruining nothing, I’m worried about you._ And then he returned his focus to the stage, leaving Will to his own thoughts.

How, exactly, was it that Hannibal was so damned good at nonverbal communication, anyway? He’d never met anyone else with the same level of talent, someone he actually felt comfortable making frequent eye contact with. In many ways, it was as if he and Hannibal spoke a language all of their own.

Will tried once again to suss out what was ultimately troubling him, and decided it was the very thing he had admitted to Hannibal. Suddenly, what they were doing together felt incredibly real, which was both wonderful and horrible. Realizing the extent to which he’d restructured his life around Hannibal meant considering what his life would be like if Hannibal decided he’d had enough; Will wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d come out of something like that unscathed.

No, if Hannibal grew tired of him, decided to end it all, Will would have to do something drastic in order to survive the loss. He’d have to move, maybe to Alaska, somewhere he’d never accidentally run into Hannibal, somewhere that would make it impossible to sit outside the doctor’s house, drinking himself to death, thinking of what he had lost.

This, the churning anguish within, this was why he had decided intimacy was overrated, that counting on another person was the stupidest thing you could do. And yet, somehow, he’d managed to find himself in love, and now it was too late to go back. He wanted to apologize again, erase the entire foolish exchange, start the evening over again so he could throw himself into appreciating opera.

It was pointless getting himself worked up over nothing. Will reminded himself that, more than anyone, Hannibal was equipped to handle the strangeness that was his mind. It wasn’t as if he’d been pretending to be a well adjusted individual before they became involved. They’d flirted over corpses, for fuck’s sake. No, Hannibal was just as much of a weirdo as he himself was, which is why they worked so well together. He’d stymie his thoughts, focus on the stage, and wait for the next intermission.

This time, Hannibal skipped the wine, heading directly to the semi-private spot they’d previously occupied. “Are you missing the company of women?” he asked, wasting no time.

“No, I just had an epiphany,” Will answered. “Then I wondered if you’d even been with a woman, because what my imagination conjured up was kind of sexy.” Hannibal’s frown was profound, and Will realized immediately that his lover was reading into the statement. “Hannibal, I have no interest in inviting anyone else into the bedroom with us.”

“Good,” was the crisp reply. “I have no intention of sharing you.”

There was a possessive intensity in Hannibal’s eyes that should have been alarming, but was instead incredibly gratifying. Hannibal’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenched, and his eyes seemed to flash with malicious intent. Will’s mouth went dry, and he found himself suddenly curious. “That, right there, you thought of someone else touching me, didn’t you?” Hannibal’s silence was answer enough. “What did it make you want to do?”

“Cut off their hands,” Hannibal answered immediately. The strangest thing was, Will knew he was not speaking figuratively, or being dramatic. He could almost hear the ‘thunk’ of a cleaver as he stared into Hannibal’s eyes. It had been a brutally honest answer, one which should have troubled him, he supposed. It had quite the opposite effect; it thrilled him.

“Do we have to stay, or can we go back to your place? I really, really need to fuck you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the front door closed, Will shoved Hannibal against it, grinding against him as he crushed their mouths together. The car ride had been an agonizing eternity, and he’d been tempted to make Hannibal pull over to the side of the road. His arousal only ratched further as Hannibal moaned softly into his mouth, returning the kiss with equal intensity as he grabbed Will’s ass and pulled him closer still.

He loved kissing Hannibal, had never understood the power of a kiss until doing so. It wasn’t just that he was so very good at it, there was some magical combination at work with the very structure of the doctor’s mouth. Will had gotten hard just from watching Hannibal’s mouth as he spoke, had masturbated to mental imagery of the shape of his lips alone.

Will pulled away for a moment in order to undo Hannibal’s bowtie, begin unbuttoning his shirt, but then he returned to the kiss, reaching down to stroke Hannibal through his pants before pulling him away from the door. “Upstairs, now,” he ordered.

A trail of clothing was left behind as Will removed all but the pants of his tuxedo on the way upstairs. He caught up and pushed Hannibal the rest of the way into the bedroom, until he was finally seated on the edge of the bed and Will could straddle him. He placed his hands on either side of Hannibal’s face and kissed down into his mouth, aggressive, hungry.

Hannibal’s hands seemed to be everywhere, pulling him closer, stroking him through his pants, grabbing his ass and handfuls of his hair. Will couldn’t seem to get close enough to him, feeling slightly unhinged by his own desire. “Take your clothes off,” he demanded as he climbed off of Hannibal in order to remove the rest of his own clothing.

Frequently, they removed each other’s clothing, the entire affair turning into a teasing sort of foreplay, but Hannibal seemed to be as impatient as Will was this evening, taking none of his customary care as he stripped. Will stroked himself as he watched, biting into his lower lip at the sight of Hannibal’s erection.

Then they were crashing together again, Will biting and sucking at Hannibal’s neck as they rubbed against each other. “Sit down,” he said, enjoying the way Hannibal obeyed without hesitation. Will sunk to his knees and pushed apart Hannibal’s thighs.

Will looked up, bravely maintaining eye contact as he took hold of Hannibal and began licking his way from base to tip, taking just the head of the man’s cock into his mouth before pulling away again, teasing. He might not have the same level of expertise as the good doctor, but Will had enthusiasm, was encouraged by the look of hungry adoration in his lover’s eyes.

Hannibal had always been the less vocal of the two of them when it came to the bedroom, so Will considered it a triumph whenever he could summon forth noises of pleasure. He shuddered with contentment when Hannibal threw his head back and moaned loudly, involuntarily thrusting into Will’s mouth. Will swirled his tongue around the head of Hannibal’s cock, lost himself in the act of sucking, stroking his own hardness as he did so. He relaxed his throat, took Hannibal in even deeper, reveling in the panting noises he could hear over his own wet, slurping.

Unable to wait any longer, Will pulled away, stood and admired his handiwork; Hannibal was beautifully flushed. After retrieving the lube, Will gestured for Hannibal to move up a bit, make room, then joined him on the bed. Keeping them each lying on their side, Will half pulled Hannibal on top of him before pushing one of the doctor’s legs up, happy when Hannibal understood what he was attempting to achieve. They shifted around until comfortable, Hannibal’s leg almost draped over Will’s shoulder, as Will slipped a lubed finger into Hannibal’s ass.

He liked the position, liked that they could still kiss easily, that he could watch Hannibal’s expression, see the way his eyes fluttered as a second finger joined the first. He could hardly catch his breath as they rocked together, alternating between deep, hungry kisses, and simply watching Hannibal’s face as he continued to finger him. He was even more flushed, his lips swollen, his breathing erratic, as he moaned softly, and clenched around Will’s fingers.

“I need to fuck you now,” Will said, unable to take it any longer. He untangled them, continued to admire his handiwork as he coated himself in lube, working a bit more into Hannibal’s ass before repositioning him, rolling him onto his stomach. He gave the doctor’s bottom a little slap, which was met with a throaty chuckle, and Hannibal lifted his hips accommodatingly.

Will entered Hannibal slowly, watched as his lover grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, watched the play of muscles in his back and shoulders, as inch by inch Will pushed his way inside. He waited for just a moment, catching his breath, delighted to hear Hannibal whimper as he began to pull back out before thrusting once more.

“You make me crazy,” he heard himself say as he dug his fingers into Hannibal’s hips, keeping control of the pace as he slowly fucked the man. “In the best possible way,” he added.

He stroked his hands over the curves of Hannibal’s ass cheeks, over his lower back, and thighs, unable to resist picking up the pace. He pushed down, changing the angle of penetration, his breathing ragged as he continued thrusting, deeper now. Hannibal hissed in pleasure, another groan escaping as he brought his arms up, laced his fingers behind his neck as if he needed to hold onto something, face momentarily hidden from Will. He rocked his hips back eagerly, meeting Will’s thrusts, undulating around Will’s cock.

“You feel amazing,” Will said, because it was true. How could he ever miss women when he had this strange and beautiful man to love? He pushed Hannibal’s hands aside, placed his own at the back of his neck, dug his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, pushing him into the mattress, and fucked him even harder for several moments before draping himself over Hannibal’s back.

He slid one arm under Hannibal’s, grasping his shoulder, using it to ground himself as he slowed the pace, not wanting to come just yet. He buried his face between Hannibal’s shoulder blades, breathing in the scent of him, kissing and biting, as he slid his other arm around Hannibal’s neck. He pulled the other man up off of the bed, forced his head around so they could kiss awkwardly for a moment, before Hannibal decided to use his own arms to hold himself upright.

Will wanted to wrap himself around Hannibal like a snake, got one arm around his waist, the other reaching down to stroke Hannibal, summoning another of those indescribable noises of pleasure. His next moan was of one of loss as Will pulled out, wanting to have Hannibal on his back, needing to see him.

This was even better, Hannibal’s legs in the air, Will rocking his way back inside the warmth and tightness of the man’s body, now able to watch the waves of pleasure wash over Hannibal’s face. He liked that Hannibal’s hair was a mess, that his mouth remained open as he panted softly in time with Will’s thrusting.

“Touch yourself,” Will demanded, picking up the pace, loving the sight of Hannibal stroking his own cock in time with the thrusts. He thought back to his earlier crisis, their conversation, and found himself smiling widely. “I’m an idiot sometimes,” he grunted. He bent down, managed to steal another kiss before having to reposition himself, knowing he was close to coming.

As he watched Hannibal creeping ever closer to orgasm, Will decided it was only fair to share his thoughts, to be as honest as Hannibal had been earlier. “I wouldn’t use a knife,” he managed to gasp out, “but if you ever let someone else do this to you,” Will made sure Hannibal was looking at him before finishing, his voice conveying the seriousness of the statement, “I’ll put a bullet in his head.” Hannibal moaned loudly, coming all over them both in great, shuddering bursts.

~~~~~~~~~~

Will swallowed the last of his orange juice. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Hannibal all morning. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like they’d settled something important the night before. Maybe it was just him, he had no real way of knowing, but something was definitely intangibly different. It was a good sort of different, though, the sort that made him walk over to help Hannibal with the dishes, standing far closer than was necessary.

“I’m sorry I ruined the opera for you,” he said as he began drying their plates from breakfast.

“That’s quite alright,” Hannibal answered easily. “The soprano was not quite pure enough in tone for the role, the sets outdated, and the staging crowded.”

Will smiled at this. “Well, maybe we’ll actually make it all the way through the next one.” Hannibal turned, arched an eyebrow as if to say, _so you’re interested in a next time?_ before refocusing on the task at hand.

“Perhaps you should choose the setting for our next date,” Hannibal suggested, and Will’s smile widened.

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to whip this up so I could properly focus on the next chapter of _Not To Die of the Truth_ and not ruin it by shoving a sex romp in just for the fun of it.
> 
>  _Intervallo_ is Italian for Intermission. The opera in question is _Rigoletto_ , in case you were curious.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Intervallo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045142) by [Eridanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eridanie/pseuds/Eridanie), [Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed)




End file.
